Moments
by Godricgal
Summary: A short series taking place around the time of the final battle. Remus and Tonks face their fears and hopes as they prepare for what they anticipate will be the last battle of the war.
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Well it's been a wee while since I posted anything here. This is the first chapter of a series written for the Year of Cannon ficathon on RTChallenge. I'll be posting the rest over the coming days. Many thanks to Mrstater for betaing this._

_Warnings: A naughty word and sexual references_

They had argued tonight and they shouldn't have. They really shouldn't have, not tonight. Not when tomorrow was the day the Order would be mounting an ambush that they anticipated would become the most dangerous of battles and hoped would have the safest of outcomes. Tomorrow, Harry was to make an attempt on the life of Voldemort. Order members would support him their orders were to take out as many Death Eaters as possible. Tomorrow, there would be no holding back, with no attempts to bring suspects in alive, they would kill on sight, and if the Order were showing no mercy, you could be sure that the Death Eaters wouldn't be.

He didn't want her to go. He had pleaded with her, shouted at her, cried tears of frustration and fear. Throughout two years of war, he had kept her safe, protected her far more than he ever intended she would be aware of. Tomorrow he wouldn't be able to do that, all his efforts would have to be trained on ensuring that Harry was unimpeded in his attempt to get to Voldemort. She should stay behind, stay safe.

He looked down at her quietly sleeping body. Not as it usually was when she slept; tucked neatly into his, but separate. He wondered how he could feel so far away, so cold, so alone in the wake of her wrath. Desperately, he wanted to wake her, try one last time to make her see sense. Then hold her tight, make love to her as though it were for the first and the last time, to whisper in her ear that he loved her as she burrowed her face in his neck. But he didn't. He simply continued to watch the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

_'You underestimate me, Remus. You always have.' _These were the words, delivered in a low, hurting tone, that had been echoing in the far recesses of his brain for the past hour. Was it true? He supposed he could see why she might think it, but did he really underestimate her? He respected her, admired her talents as an Auror. He loved her for her shining spirit, quick wit and sharp intellect. His desire for her not to be present at tomorrow's assault was not due to any doubt he had in her abilities, hell, she was, no doubt stronger than he was. Bitter experience had taught him though; this wasn't the only thing that mattered. Sometimes plain old bad luck stole the day, he didn't want to risk that she might fall as a victim to misfortune. He didn't want.

He was lost to thought for a good half an hour before he made his decision swiftly. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder and shock it as gently as his sudden urgency allowed him. Instantly her eyes popped open, distressed, worried.

'What is it, has some thing happened?' She asked, struggling to sit up, alert almost instantly.

'No, love. I'm sorry I didn't mean to worry you. I just-', he paused and took a breath, 'I just couldn't bear to go to sleep with you angry at me, we've never gone to bed angry before and tonight is not a good night to start. I wanted to talk this through again.'

Defences ever at the ready, she responded, 'I'm not backing down, Remus. I'm going, you have to respect that. Dammit, Remus, I haven't questioned your right to go and that's not because I'm not fucking _terrified_ that I might lose you, it's because I understand the need to see this through. Surely you can get that.'

He hung his head. He did get it, of course he did. Tomorrow might very well be the day when this whole madness ends. He just desperately didn't want it to end with the madness of grief.

He shifted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her head to rest high on his chest, threading his fingers through her already sleep-mussed locks. 'I do get it, love, I do.' He said before pressing a kiss to her temple.

That was obviously not the response that Tonks had expected for she lifted her head abruptly and looked him in the eye.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I just can't bear the thought of loosing you, I just want to protect you. I was being selfish, I suppose.' He answered the question she had asked with her eyes.

'Eh? Selfish? How d'you work that out? You were just trying to protect me, and whilst I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need your protection nearly as much as you think I do.' Her typically frank manner lessened the tension considerably and felt himself relaxing slightly.

'I _do_ know that, Dora but when I think about life without you-' he had to stop. He blinked back the tears that stung, took a deep breath. Instantly her hand was on his face, caressing his cheek. Her eyes met his and as always when they connected like this, he knew she understood, perfectly. He didn't need to continue.

He pulled her to him more firmly. He savoured the sensation of _her_ arms wrapping around _his_ body, of her pulling herself closer until they met in the middle. A kiss. A simple kiss, but one of understanding, of forgiveness.

When hands met bodies in confident exploration, it was the simple and seemingly natural urgency with which their bodies responded that drove each to their precipice. Declarations of love and physical acts of loving intimacy.

Breathless, afraid and yet sated somehow, she turned to him.

tbc

Please review if you have a moment, I'd love to know what you think of it.


	2. Recorded Moments

AN: In hindsight, I should have added this to the end of the first chapter since it's so short. But never mind, here it is. Thanks to Starsea for beta-ing.

_'Breathless, afraid and yet sated somehow, she turned to him.' _

Her mouth formed the words her mind was not quite ready to share even as she doubted the wisdom of saying what she desperately wanted to tell him.

His eyes begged the question and she knew that she wouldn't get away without telling him.

'I wrote you a letter,' she said, shifting her gazed momentarily from his face. He raised an eyebrow. 'In case something happens tomorrow, you know.' She caught his words of protest with her finger on his lips. 'Shhh; please, let me finish.'

He kissed her finger as a signal that she should continue. 'It was not easy to write, I think translating what my heart feels into words on a page is nigh on impossible, but I did my very best. Remus, I'm scared, I'm not going to pretend otherwise, and I know you are too. I'm only telling you-' she laughed quietly, 'I'm only telling you because I hid it very well and you wouldn't have found it otherwise.'

'Dora, I don't want to-'

'I know, Remus,' she said in a whisper, 'but we have to be realistic. You know that you had no chance of persuading me that I shouldn't go tomorrow, and we both know that there is a chance one or both of us won't be coming home tomorrow night.'

His arms tightened around her, 'I'm so scared I'm going to lose you.'

'I know, me too.' she replied, burying her face in his neck.

'Thank you for waking me.' she said quietly, with a tone of emotion that pierced his soul. She lifted her head to face him once more. 'I love you.'

He met her lips with a sweet kiss. His kisses served to provide fortitude, the strength to believe that tomorrow had to be a brighter day. 'I love you too - so much.' he managed to say around the contours of her mouth.

She kissed down from his mouth towards his jaw, and up to his ear, where she whispered the location of her letter.

Solace from reality had long since been something they could find in each other's arms. Fear and hatred of evil lessened by the soothing grip of love. As the night began to loose its infancy, they held each other; drawing strength from physical closeness and shared love and affection.

Their argument settled and with the knowledge that they would stand united in whatever they were to face the next day, they slipped into slumber. It could never have been a peaceful nights rest but encased in each other's arms, they were afforded the best night's sleep they could hope for.

tbc

_Reviews would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading._


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: This chapter takes place the day after the battle. The prompt for this was Buoyancy._

With shaking hands Remus held the letter. He ran one finger over the swirling ink that formed his name, before grasping his wand as firmly as his trembling hand would allow and tapping it sharply on the folded yellow parchment, muttering the incantation Tonks had whispered in his ear two nights ago.

He set down his wand and carefully unfolded the parchment, smoothing it gently. _My Dearest Remus_, it began. Heart pounding and emotion rising in his chest, he felt himself begin to float away as her words of love and support washed over him, became part of him.

Remus read slowly, drinking in each beautiful word transcribed from her heart and etched into paper in the curling motion of her hand in control of a quill. When he reached the final line of the letter, breath held motionless, eyes skimming back and forth; his heart and soul filled with love, admiration and gratitude.

For the last twenty-four hours emotions had ebbed and flowed, joy and sorrow washed like tides under the pull of the moon. So much had been won and so much lost to so many. Just like the last war, this one had ended with unfettered joy from those who had not been tainted by the cruel hand of death and blessed relief from those not fortunate enough to have escaped the passing of one held dear.

The battle of the previous day had been one of untold bloodshed, on both sides. A family of seven children left prematurely fatherless by a flash of emerald from the wand of a tyrant. Remus wondered whether Arthur would have been proud to have died at the hand of the ultimate aggressor. For the second time in as many years, Hogwarts was to have a successor in the role of Head. The image of McGonagall's wounded body haunted him, stole the dreams of a fitful slumber. They had not been merciful; superficial slice after shallow cut, just deep enough to cause damage but not to bring about a swift and agony free death.

The swirling torrent of emotion pulled him down; he sank beneath the surface of grief for those who had shared his life, given him cause and reason.

There was only one thing that could pull him back to the surface, and her hand was now resting lightly on his shoulder.

'You read it.' she whispered.

'I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. I just wanted to know what you had said, what you would have wanted me to know.'

'You are a silly man, there was nothing in the letter that I haven't told you a thousand times already, I simply wrote is so that, if the worst were to happen you would have more than memories of speech to know how much I loved you.'

'I know, sometimes, it's still just hard for me to accept that I have you in my life, that I have some one to love and that I'm loved in return.'

She sat down in his lap and kissed him and it gave him buoyancy in what was now their river of dreams, open to explore. Her lips entwined with his, a tether to a reality as yet unrealised. Healing, soothing kisses help to smooth the scars of war that will fade with time.

Later, they lie in the bed they both feel will be hard to shed as their cocoon against cruelty and hatred. For it is in this place that solace has been found, loving support and transport from despair through physical pleasure. But fortifying arms wrapped tightly around trembling bodies, are sturdy support down the fresh path of freedom.

Remus woke in the middle of the night, fluid visions of passionate memories were the first to flood his brain. He turned his head slightly towards the clock in the corner and caught sight of the letter, her letter. He would be thankful for the rest of his life that he hadn't read it under the circumstances for which it had been intended, but the love and devotion weaved in her words moored him forever more to the wonder that was their partnership.

_AN: Reviews would be much appreciated. _

_There are a number of drabbles that accompany this series. I'm not going to post them here, but if anyone is interested in reading them. They can be found at RTChallenge. There is a link to Challenge on my Live Journal which is the homepage in my profile. _


	4. Chapter 4

_This is where it all began_, thought Tonks as she stared at the vacant writing bureau that sat in the drawing room at Grimmauld Place.

Activity levels in the house had long since dipped from the crazy days of the Weasleys' residence. Silence reigned, affording her the much needed opportunity for introspective thought.

She could picture him, sitting at the desk, head bent over whatever book or parchment held his attention at the time. For many months she had returned from the Ministry late at night, looking forward to catching a glimpse of him on her way to bed.

It had taken her some time to muster up the courage to approach him. No matter how many times she'd told herself that she was being silly, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wanted this man's good opinion above any other.

She'd gone down to the kitchen one night and made two cups of tea and then, with painstaking care, ascended the stairs to offer him refreshment and company. Much to her surprise and pleasure, he had eagerly accepted both. They'd stayed up until the small hours that night, talked of everything and nothing. She'd discovered the tantalising tingle of future promises.

Excepting mission and moons, it became their nightly ritual, an hour or two of comfort and companionship, a blissful break from the gravity of the responsibilities they shouldered.

Each night, they'd move their chairs slightly closer, fleeting touches lingered for longer. Until one night, their gazes had locked, he'd taken her hand, pulled her into his lap and kissed her. Even a thousand kisses later, the memory of the first caused her tummy to launch into somersaults.

A month later, their lips immersed in heated kisses; his hand had worked its way inside her top and she had asked him to take her to bed in a breathless, whispered request. The intimacy they'd shared that night served as a signature as she transferred ownership of her heart to him.

Seven months later, he'd sat her down in the very chair she sat in now and explained in agitated tones that he was going away, that no, he wouldn't be returning and even if he did, by some small miracle make it away alive, he wouldn't be returning to her. She deserved better, he'd been teasing himself with the idea that she could give his life a semblance of normality.

This room, this chair, _that desk_, had been silent witnesses to both her happiest and darkest of moments. The slow realisation as love dawned on them, the euphoria of their first kiss, her stunned silence as she'd listened to his excuses for leaving her and the dry sobs that had been wrenched from the bottom of her soul as she'd watched him turn and walk out of her life.

Lost in memories both bitter and sweet, she started when a hand gently grasped her shoulder. She lent her had on the arm it belonged to and closed her eyes as another hand swept gently through her hair, sending shivers the length of her body.

This time, she pulled him into _her_ lap. This time there was no doubt between them, they were together and they were free. The war was over.

_They were free. The war was over. _

Grief was a heavy weight that lessened over days as they shared it though vocal and physical expression.

To realise freedom, to live unfettered by the experience of war would take time, but they had made a start down that road and each day delivered them further from the horrific constraints of the last few years.

She kissed him. It would be for the last time in this place. They had come to collect the bureau; Harry had acquiesced to her request that they take it as a symbol to memories both good and bad, a reminder of troubles past.

Life now would be different; they could finally look past their dedication to the war effort and concentrate on their life together. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

A he kissed her back, beautiful words such as marriage and children flashed through her thoughts. They could do that now. Be.

War had halted their lives but neither could regret becoming entwined in its path. They'd lost so much during the journey of this battle. In selfish moments, she thanked the stars for the war, for the opportunity to meet him, this feeling quelled almost instantly by a guilt that tasted so sour.

The bureau shrunk and sequestered in a pocket, they joined hands and walked to the front hall. For the last time they walked though the doors of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. They would recall that room fondly forever more, but the house belonged in the past. So much had begun and ended in this place, the alluring beckoning of change called to them.

They followed.

_AN: this is the last chapter in this series. As I said before, there are a number of drabbles that accompany it. They are posted to RTChallenge if anyone is interested in reading them. _

_If you have enjoyed the series, please do take a moment to leave a review. It'd be good to know if people have enjoyed reading it. _

_Thanks must go to mrstater for beta-ing this._


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